


Golden Girl

by walking_through_autumn



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: And everyone is invited, Crossdressing, For a mission, Gen, Humour and some angst and all that jazz, There happens to be a party
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 12:38:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1119914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walking_through_autumn/pseuds/walking_through_autumn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After finding out he could turn into a Titan, Eren had thought that nothing could faze him anymore. Then his seniors tell him he has to crossdress for the purposes of a mission. </p>
<p>The world has gone mad indeed. </p>
<p>Written for an SnK Kink Meme prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Golden Girl

**Author's Note:**

> Another kink meme fill which I've finally gotten around to cross posting. Also, just one of those fics I've written to destress, please read and enjoy and don't take it too seriously. 
> 
> I just wanted to imagine Eren in a dress. I don't imagine he would be too happy with me.

_Twelve hours before the Drechsler Annual Ball_

Admittedly, there is still a whole lot Eren does not know about the world. He knows there are titans to be gotten rid of, there are some religious fanatics that try to oppose the Scouting Legion every step of the way, they are eternally in need of funding, and Commander Erwin’s mind is a thing that only Armin can begin to guess at. Then there’re the big mysteries like _what the fuck did my dad do to me_? Which nobody can answer. And smaller mysteries like _how does the Captain do that spin and can I learn that_? Which, with hope, sheer luck, and years of practice, he might come close to learning to do. So Eren is happy to listen and learn from his seniors and Captain, and do whatever is needed of a soldier, titan-shifter, and possible hope for humanity.

All that does not explain why they’re sitting him at a table, looking like they’re trying not to laugh, and telling him he needs to pretend to be a girl for an evening. It does not sink in.

“What?” he asks, the first coherent thing in his mind.

Auruo rolls his eyes. “Typical brat, nothing goes into your head.”

“Auruo,” Petra says, a warning in her tone. She smiles at Eren and says, a little slower, “We need you to pretend to be a girl for a night. It’s the easiest way to make sure nobody panics while we do our work.”

Nope, nothing makes sense, even the second time Eren hears it.

Gunter coughs and averts his eyes. Erd does not even bother to smother his laughter when he sees the look on Eren’s face. Eren turns to the last bastion of sanity in the room, the Captain drinking tea at the head of the table, looking increasingly bored with every passing second.

“Captain,” he says, aware that he sounds hopelessly lost.

Levi sighs, which sounds like “shitty brat”. But it must be Eren’s lucky day, or Levi is just taking pity on the sheer amount of un-luck Eren is facing, because he rolls his eyes and says, “We have to infiltrate the party to find hard evidence about this Drechsler guy. And we have to babysit your ass. They’ll flip if they see you there. So it’s either we burn your face and give you new features, or you cross-dress to minimize the chances of them finding out. Clear?”

Eren wants to say nothing is clear, but the look on Levi’s face is impatience to the point of danger. He swallows and nods.

“Good. It’s tonight. Petra, I’ll leave Eren to you to prepare.”

“I’m on it!” Petra says, looking much too cheerful. She stares at him with a strange glint in her eyes – it makes Eren feel like she’s the proverbial wolf who has given up pretending to be a sheep.

Before he can say anything more, like call out to Gunter, Erd, and Auruo for help, Petra pulls him from the chair like he weighs nothing and drags him in the direction of her room.

He isn’t even allowed the mercy of wallowing in dread before he’s trapped in a room with no hope of escape.

.

_Ten hours before the Drechsler Annual Ball_

“I suppose this will do,” Petra murmurs.

Eren stands before her with only a pair of underwear for modesty. In two hours, he had decided he has understood the world a lot better. Namely, that waxing is a form of torture reserved for the worst of criminals, and that he’d rather bite into his hand a hundred times than to get his eyebrows plucked even once. The soothing lotion cannot distract him from the burning sensation of having his hair removed – and it’s strange to feel so smooth _everywhere_. He thinks he deserves a medal for this. Scratch going out to face titans, this is courage of the highest form.

His stomach rumbles. He sends a pleading look Petra’s way.

She frowns. “Oh, alright, but we’ll have to make this quick. There’s still so much we have to do.”

“Um.” Eren starts to pull on his clothes, grateful to have something to cover his now hairless body up with. “What else do we have to do?”

“Pick out a dress, for one. Have you practice walking in these shoes – ” she holds up a pair of shoes with pointy heels that look like they can be weapons – “and we have to work on your social dancing, and table etiquette, and your speech – oh, there’s so much to be done!”

The way she says it, it’s like she and Hanji has switched personalities – the crazed, manic look is the same. It’s uncomfortably like he’s a specimen to be played with. Briefly, he wonders if it’s too late to take his gear and attempt to escape.

The grip Petra has on his wrist as she drags him to the dining hall says he doesn’t have a chance.

.

_Eight hours before the Drechsler Annual Ball_

Eren’s feet are killing him. He does not care that he is technically able to regenerate whatever bits he loses, it still hurts. He throws everything he thought he had learnt in the past few hours out of the window, because these pointy shoes bloody hurt. Why do people even make them? How do people kill Titans in those, or run away from them? He adds this invention to a growing list of things about the world he does not understand.

“Don’t slouch!” Petra says, rapping his back with a ruler. Eren winces and stands up straighter. At least he’s no longer wobbling in those shoes – those three years of training have drilled impeccable balance into him, though he’s certain nobody had ever thought that balance would come in useful now, when he’s holding a dress up to his ankles just so he can take another tiny step forward. “And smile! If you’re going to dress like a noble lady act like one!”

_And whose idea was that in the first place?_ Eren wants to say. Instead he stretches his lips into a smile. Or something like one. Judging from Petra’s expression he probably looks more like he’s going to kill someone than ask a guy for a dance.

“Smile, not look like you want to kill the guy,” Petra says. “Pretend it’s Armin or Mikasa in front of you.”

The thought makes him blanch. They are the very last people he wants to see him dressed up like this. Petra must have realized this, because she winces and says, “Okay, maybe not. We’ll work on that later. Maybe you should try on another dress, a shorter one…” She trails off into mutters as she rifles through the dresses with their sequins and glimmering fabric. Eren had ventured a question into where and how she got them, and her only reply had been “the Commander has his means”.

Eren did not want to know after that.

.

_Six hours before the Drechsler Annual Ball_

Hanji plants herself inside the room, not even bothering to make any excuses. She just watches with shining eyes and splutters with laughter every time Eren tries to sound like a noble lady. He had learnt the social dancing well enough, especially since it’s easier than mastering the gear. But now he’s only succeeding in making dying cat noises, and he’s sure if the glass in the room hadn’t been made of hardy material it would have shattered long ago. Petra’s lips twitch in a valiant effort to keep her laughter at bay.

“Ah, I can’t do this,” he says, reverting back to his normal voice. At least Petra had decided a shorter dress suits him better, only now there’s an uncomfortable wind where wind…shouldn’t be. “Can’t I just not speak for the entire evening?” Considering he plans to spend the entire evening hiding in a corner, it’s not an unreasonable request, he thinks.

“No,” Petra says.

“People will come talk to you,” Hanji cheerfully explains.

“Why?” he says, a note of desperation starting to enter his voice. “I mean, they don’t even know me, I’m just some random noble lady distantly related to Commander Erwin or something, who would be interested in that?”

Petra and Hanji exchange glances before Petra pulls Eren in front of the mirror and gestures for him to look. He frowns. He has seen himself in the mirror at least ten times today, as Petra dressed him and plucked his eyebrows and applied his make-up and re-dressed him, so he doesn’t see why he should stare at himself again. He doesn’t even really look like himself. He scowls and the image in the mirror scowls back.

“He doesn’t get it,” Hanji says, sing-song.

“He doesn’t,” Petra agrees.

“Get _what_?” Eren asks, turning away from the mirror.

“Nevermind. Let’s try that again. Pretend you, um…pretend you need something from them and need to ask in the sweetest way possible?” Petra suggests, obviously running out of ideas.

Eren really, really wants to eat. He hardly ate anything during the early lunch, and he’s sure he won’t get to eat much at the ball. Petra had promised him a break after they’re done with this voice practice, so he thinks. And thinks. While Petra and Hanji murmur with each other. He supposes it’s worth a try, and he recalls six years ago when he had been looking for a missing girl who some beasts in human disguise had abducted.

It is like the proverbial light bulb has been switched on then. He puts on a smile – it comes easily this time – and says, with a slight purr, “Sir Drechsler, how very nice to meet you.” He flutters his lashes a little.

Hanji drops her cup of tea and it shatters to pieces.

Petra squeaks. And scrabbles for purchase on a table.

Eren hopes this means he gets to eat.

.

_Four hours before the Drechsler Annual Ball_

After they’ve fixed his wig on and Eren looks himself in the mirror again, the only thing he can recognize are his eyes, and even then Petra and Hanji had applied some shimmery stuff that makes them seem larger. At least he’s full now – for a moment he commiserates with Sasha’s constant need to stuff her belly. He allows Hanji to paint his nails while Petra looks over their schedule.

“Why are we doing this in the first place?” he asks.

Petra doesn’t look up from the schedule as she says, “So that they won’t find out you’re there – ”

“No, I mean – what sort of work does the squad need to do in the first place?”

Petra looks up then, surprise in her eyes. “We didn’t explain?” she asks, thinking back on the events of the morning. “Oh, we really didn’t.”

“You should know though, just in case,” Hanji says. She scrutinizes the fingers and nods, placing his right hand on the table for the paint to dry while she goes to work on his left hand. “It’ll help if you can distract Drechsler.”

Petra sits in front of Eren. With most of the preparation done her eyes hold more warmth than manic concentration in them. “The higher-ups suspect Sir Drechsler of treason against the Crown. Apparently the amount of gear and blades produced does not tally with what the military is receiving.”

If Armin were here he would have reached the answer immediately, Eren thinks, processing Petra’s words. “So somewhere along the way the gear and blades are going…somewhere else?”

Hanji nods. “Sir Drechsler’s movements have been suspicious as well. Erwin thinks he might be keeping in touch with people who are…against the Crown, for lack of a better word.”

“And distributing the gear and blades to them? But we need those!” Eren says, more horrified at the thought that the precious equipment is going to waste than that people might be going against the Crown.

“Nothing’s confirmed yet, which is where we come in. We’re going to look for hard evidence of his actions,” Petra says. “It just so happens he has this ball every year, and he likes to be on good terms with the Scouting Legion. So we’re always invited.”

“Probably to mask what he’s doing,” Hanji says, placing Eren’s left hand on the table and capping the nail polish. Eren’s fingernails feel weird and heavy now.

“All the better for our job,” Petra says, cheerful. “And it’ll be even better now that we have Eren with us!”

“Me?” Eren asks, starting to lose the train of this conversation. “But I thought – you’re bringing me along, cross-dressed, so you can continue to supervise me – I’m just in the way, I thought?”

Hanji looks at him in a sort of pitying way. “Eren, Eren,” she says, slinging an arm around his shoulders, “why would Levi go through so much trouble just for that?”

No matter how much Eren prods after that they refuse to answer. He’s thrown into another room to sit while the ladies do their own preparation.

.

_Two hours before the Drechsler Annual Ball_

“Wow,” Gunter says.

“Yeah,” Erd says.

Levi grunts and sips at his drink. After a while he says, “Not a bad job, Petra.”

Eren feels like digging a hole into the ground and hiding there forever.

“Isn’t Eren – I mean, _Lady Ellen_. Isn’t Lady Ellen wonderful?” Petra says while she straps a knife to her thigh.

Erd whistles as he checks the weapons and tools under his jacket. “Yeah, Ellen, chin up!”

Auruo grunts and adjusts his dress shoes. Likely there’s another weapon or tool of some sort in there. “Least he could do is look decent for the job,” he says.

“Enough chit-chat. We’ll go through the plan in the carriage,” Levi says, placing his cup down and standing up in one smooth motion. With his hair slicked back and dressed in a form-fitting suit, he still looks every bit the dangerous soldier, albeit one that is very suave. Eren mentally shrinks back when he looks him from top to toe. “Don’t think you’ll be hiding in the shadows tonight, Eren.”

“Sir?” he says, trying not to squeak.

“I’ll explain later. Let’s get going.”

“After Lady Ellen,” Erd says. Eren feels his face burn even more when he bows and holds a hand out for him to take.

“Erm,” he says, definitely with a squeak this time.

“Stop playing around, Erd,” Petra scolds. She loops her arm through Eren’s and winks at him. “He’ll certainly have enough attention for the night, give him a break.”

“What?” Eren says, which is the only coherent thing he can manage.

Petra pulls him to the awaiting carriage, humming an upbeat tune under her breath.

“Have fun, you guys! I’ll be seeing you there with my squad,” Hanji says with a wink, waving them off and looking stunning in a rich purple evening gown.

When the carriage door slams shut Eren can’t help but think it sounds a little like a death knell. From the way his seniors grin, and the manic way Hanji is chuckling outside, he’s sure the evening is going to go just swell. Perfect. Maybe it isn’t too late to force the carriage door open and run back to the castle.

Then the carriage sets off and all he can do is try not to whimper in his seat. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are much appreciated :)


End file.
